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20121201
20121231
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SFGTV2 1
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anana 1
dimusi 1
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not cry for leila or for him, but drink the red wine and grow your love doublely, one for the ruby in the cup, the other for its rouge on your cheek. bombs rape the eyes of the sleeping assyrian gods. as if it were only a sand box, a few worthless grains of sand. i'll cut for you the last swathe of blue from the sky, sever my and if you'll let me, but for 5 minutes more, leave me to sleep without the knowledge of war. a kanun weeps near the funeral of music. having been occupied, notes mourn for the loss of their song. i am for a concert of horses, the origin of gazelle leapt up from the heart of al gubungi. have you made small steps into the desert within us or listened for the gutterals longed deep within our throats, you would have come bearing gifts. i have nothing in red that i would not abide in green. el batanabi wrote the heart of our silken tanab, what need have we for you? no poem has ever enough red but that its blood might river beneath the veins of its people. beneath the desert sun, one man by one man by one man breathes six. thousands of tons wrung sonorous from the
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